


Secrets

by dirrrtydeeds



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Age Difference (15 Years), Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Smut, Swearing, handjobs, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:38:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirrrtydeeds/pseuds/dirrrtydeeds
Summary: "I'm tired of being your secret."





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> This work contains a very significant (fifteen years) age difference, and shamelessly self indulgent porn. Read at your own risk!

_What do you want to be when you grow up?_

Throughout the years, you always had the same answer to that question. You had always known where you’d be when you grew up, but you supposed that was what happened when you were practically baptized with WWE when you were a kid. Your father was a huge fan, and he passed that love on to you - only your love went further. 

You wanted to be the one on the tv screen that little kids sat close to, the one that made people cheer and boo and cry and just get _excited_ over. You wanted to be a WWE Diva, and nothing was gonna stand in your way. 

And you had succeeded. You trained your ass off day in and day out, served your time in the indie scene, and were eventually signed onto FCW in 2011, and then moved up to RAW in 2012. You worked so hard, and eventually your life’s dream came true. You remembered the first time you were ever approached on the street by a little girl and her mother. She was wearing your shirt, holding your action figure, and looked up at you like you were the coolest thing since sliced bread. You had cried about fifty times that day. 

Every single other fan interaction you had had still blew your mind. You had been with WWE for six years now, and still every day you woke up feeling so lucky and so proud of yourself for getting to where you were now. Shit, you had even gone in and worked with some of the NXT kids at the performance center and had them tell you that _you_ inspired _them._

That was some crazy shit, considering you had this exact conversations with absolute legends like Lita, Trish Stratus, Michelle McCool, the Dudley Boyz, Edge and Christian, Chris Jericho, and Stone Cold Steve Austin. 

And, eventually, in 2017, you got to meet your ultimate inspirations as a kid trying to learn to wrestle: Matt and Jeff Hardy. (More specifically, Jeff, but you’d never tell anyone that). Their Wrestlemania return was quite possibly the absolutely coolest shit in the whole world, and your little fangirl heart was beating so fast that it almost jumped out of your chest. To say you were excited to be working on RAW with them was an absolute understatement. 

You had met them officially the RAW after Mania, when you had accidentally (you swore on your ass that it was an accident, but some of the other girls in the locker room liked to tease you that it wasn’t when you had recounted the story with flushed cheeks and trembling hands when you came back in) bumped into them in catering. And they had _recognized you._ The fucking Hardy Boyz knew who you were. They said they were looking forward to seeing more of your ring work. That was quite possibly the most surreal experience of your _life._

You had started running into Jeff and Matt all the damn time, having casual conversations with the two and getting to know them better. Eventually, it turned more into seeing Jeff than it did Matt. He was… wow. He was amazing. Beautiful, talented, charming, funny, kind, and so hard working. All traits you had already admired about him before meeting him, but eventually it turned into something a little more. 

It wasn’t long before you could admit to yourself you had a crush on the Charismatic Enigma. Yeah, he was quite a bit older than you (fifteen years, to be exact), but you didn’t give a single shit about the age gap. He wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was a good man, and you cared about him. And, by some crazy fucking freak of nature, he felt the same way. He asked you out about a month after you had met him, and of course you said yes. 

The two of you went on three Jeff Hardy style dates to ride dirt bikes, go ziplining, and stargazing. It was the most fun you had ever had on dates, and you were absolutely certain that you wanted more. And, again, it blew your mind when he said that he wanted to be in a proper relationship with you. You were over the moon, thinking for sure that the smile would never leave your face, until he specified a condition that he had. 

When he said that he didn’t want to be public with your relationship, you understood. Fans could get a little crazy sometimes, you knew that. You knew that while the two of you were okay with the age gap, a lot of people wouldn’t be. You weren’t upset about that. What you were sort of upset about was the fact that by ‘public’, he meant _everyone._ No telling friends, no telling family. Nobody could know. As far as the entire world was concerned, you and Jeff were just really good friends. 

Jeff had explained quickly when he noticed you getting upset that it would just be for a little bit, that he just wanted to have you to himself for a little bit before people started going crazy. You still didn’t quite understand, but it was what he wanted, so you agreed - under your own little condition that it wouldn’t be for forever, that you could eventually tell your loved ones about someone who was making you so happy. 

Jeff was important to you, and you didn’t want to keep that secret. He agreed with a crooked little smile, kissing the tip of your nose and giving you a smooth, charming _“of course, darlin’.”_

And you believed that. You really did. You were content to keep things under wraps for now because he was going to let you talk about the two of you soon. Except you thought ‘soon’ meant in a few weeks - not four months. 

When he had gotten injured in September, you had taken two weeks off of touring to go to North Carolina with him and help him through his surgery, since his motion was pretty limited afterwards, and he had asked you to tell your bosses that you needed the two weeks off because of family issues, and not to take care of your injured boyfriend. He hadn’t even let you go to the hospital with him during his surgery because he didn’t want people taking pictures of you there with him. 

That one stung. You tried to be okay with it, since it was selfish of you to get upset when he was the one getting surgery, but come the fuck on. He didn’t want you there to support him because he was worried people would take pictures. That was fucked up, right? Nevertheless, you agreed, and you let one of his buddies pick him up and drop him off at home. He could tell that something was a little off with you while you were there with him, and though he had asked multiple times what was wrong, you pushed it to the side and told him you just wanted to help him focus on his recovery. 

Which, yeah. You could admit later that it was a little screwed up of you to not have a conversation with him about this, about something that was upsetting you, but you had the best intentions, you swore you did. You really _did_ just want him to focus on getting better. You knew how much it killed him to not be able to be in the ring. 

Shit, it killed you on the inside when you requested the two weeks off to take care of him, you wouldn’t be able to imagine anywhere between four to six months for Jeff’s injury. Wrestling was his life just as much as it was yours. 

But eventually, not being able to talk about your growing frustrations only added to the frustration itself. You had left Jeff’s house over a month ago only giving him a chaste kiss on the lips rather than the heavy makeout session he had very clearly wanted before you had to get to the airport, and had kept the phone calls to a minimum when the two of you talked at least once a day like you both promised each other you would while he was out. 

And you could tell that it was starting to get on Jeff’s nerves. He wasn’t the type of man to keep things bottled up inside. He was a very emotional man, and didn’t really care who knew it, and you really admired that about him. He wasn’t the type to beat around the bush, either, so it frustrated him that you weren’t being open with him about what was upsetting you, because he was very honest about his own grievances. You had hoped that spending some time away from him would help the situation, but it wasn’t. 

All you could think about was the fact that you couldn’t think of any real reason why he’d want to keep you a secret anymore after it had already been five months of his supposed few weeks that he wanted to have you to himself. 

“Maybe he’s ashamed of me.” You mused to yourself as you sat in the hot bath in the hotel for some city you’d never been to after a live show, sipping wine and listening to a sad playlist on your phone. You had already had your daily call with Jeff this morning, one that was quicker than normal, consisting only of ‘how are you/how’s your arm/how was the show/what’s the weather like’, and now you were wallowing in your own self pity. 

“Maybe he only wants me for the sex.” It was another quiet thought spoken out loud that you wished you hadn’t said. Both of your ideas so far had only made you feel worse. The depressing Bruno Mars you were listening to wasn’t helping either. You really should cheer the hell up. You were lucky he wanted you to begin with. 

“Or… maybe he-”

A knock sounding on the hotel door cut off your thoughts. You paused, unsure of whether or not the knock was on your door or maybe your neighbor’s door, when you heard it. 

“Darlin’?” 

_Shit._

How did he even… 

“Darlin’, it’s, uh… It’s me. I got your room number from one of the gals. Can you let me in, doll?” 

You downed the rest of your wine and got out of the bath, draining the tub and quickly slipping on one of the white, fluffy bath robes that the hotel had gifted you after drying off the best that you could, opening the door slowly and feeling your heart break a little bit when you say his excited, puppy dog smile fall into something a bit more somber when he caught the expression on your face. 

“You, uh. You don’t seem very excited to see me.” Jeff said quietly, rubbing the back of his tattooed neck and looking like he was having a bit of a hard time meeting your eyes. 

“And you don’t seem very excited to tell anyone about me.” 

You hadn’t realized that you had actually said that out loud until Jeff looked like you had just kicked him in the gut and the motion of it turned on some sort of lightbulb in his head. He opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him. 

“Come inside.” You stepped to the side, allowing him enough room to enter with his bag in tow. You wished he would have told you about him coming to visit, but you knew that if you weren’t upset with him, you’d be overjoyed at the surprise and not care in the slightest that he had come to you without any warning. 

Jeff set his things down next to yours (you missed the sight of that) and sat down on the bed, looking up at you and waiting patiently for you to say something first. You took a deep breath and leaned back on the dresser, your hands shoved into the pockets of your robe as you looked down at your bare feet. 

“I’m tired of being your secret.” You said finally, looking up to meet his beautiful green eyes, holding your hand up and cutting him off once again. 

“No, let me finish.” You said sternly, now crossing your arms over your chest. “I understood at first, even if it was a little upsetting. I got that you just wanted some time to ourselves without wanting it being the talk of the wrestling world. What I _didn’t_ get, and what I still don’t get, is you not wanting to even tell our friends and family. It’s at that point that I start to think that maybe that’s not the reason why you wanted to keep me a secret to begin with.” 

You could see that it was killing him to not be able to speak his mind right now, but you were damn well gonna finish. You’d been wanting to get this off your chest for way too long. You’d let him talk after you were done. 

“I mean, like… Shit, Jeff, I don’t know. Are you ashamed of me or something?” You hated that your voice broke, and from the look on Jeff’s beautiful face, he hated it, too. 

“I thought it would be temporary, but it’s been five months, and you talk big about how much you care about me and you’re even all the way out here, surprising me, but you don’t even want to tell your friends and family about me. You’re so amazing and I care about you so much, but shit, I don’t know how much longer I can stand being kept in the shadows.” 

“I’m _not_ ashamed of you.” Jeff said fiercely, standing up and taking your face gently in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks and carefully tilting you up to meet his eyes. “You hear me, darlin’? I’m not ashamed of you.”

“Then why do you keep me a secret?” You whispered, hating the tears that were slipping down your cheeks against your will. Jeff looked like his heart was breaking as he wiped them away, shaking his head, and you could even see some tears in his eyes as well. 

“No, princess, don’t you cry. I don’t want you to cry.” Jeff pleaded softly, his normally smooth, steady, and sweeter than honey voice starting to break just like yours was. “I didn’t want to keep us secret cause I was ashamed of you. I did it because I’m ashamed of _me.”_

“Wh-” You began, your eyebrows knit together as you sniffled, but Jeff cut you off this time, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Let me explain, baby doll.” He murmured, lifting you with practiced ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct, and he slowly sat back down on the bed, this time with you on his lap. “I’m not a good man.”

You had opened your mouth to argue against that, because he was one of the best men you knew, but he once again put his lips against your forehead to silence you. 

“I know who I am. I don’t have the best reputation because I did a lot of shit. Shit that I’m still tryin’ to make up for.” Jeff explained carefully, but you finally successfully interrupted his next thought.

“I don’t give a damn what you did in the past.” You argued, placing your hands on top of his.

“Mighty sweet of you, darlin’, but _I_ care. And a hell of a lot of other people care, too.” Jeff said, which only served to confuse you further. Since when did Jeff Hardy care about what other people thought? 

“And then there’s the whole… age gap thing.” Jeff seemed a bit more hesitant to say this particular excuse, but it was a shock enough to pull you out of your tearful pity party. 

“The age g- Jeffrey Nero, is that seriously an issue for you?” You asked, pulling your face away from his touch, putting your hands now on his chest while his rested on your thighs. 

“Listen, I just don’t want people sayin’ stuff that ain’t true about us!” Jeff defended, looking almost indignant that you were getting on him about that part. 

“Stuff like _what?”_ You asked, exasperated, almost wanting to roll your eyes, but not wanting to seem too much like a shitty teenager talking back to their parents. “Stuff like I care about you, and you care about me? Jesus, Jeffrey, I’m an adult. I’ve been making my own choices for a long time now. Not to mention that my feelings about you don’t rest on the opinions of thirteen year olds on Instagram.” 

“I damn well know that.” Jeff snapped, his honeyed accent getting a little thicker and his eyebrows knitting together in obvious frustration. You took a deep breath, trying to relax. You had thought you had almost had a breakthrough there, and the two of you got upset all over again, because lord knew _that_ wasn’t going to solve any problems. You brought your fingers up to his forehead to gently soothe away the wrinkles that were making an appearance there, kissing cheek chastely. 

“I’m not asking for the world, babe.” You said carefully, melting a little as he wrapped his arms around you. You always felt safe when you were here, in his arms. “If the fans opinions really make you that uncomfortable, I won’t ever push it. But… I dunno. Can I tell my mom at least?”

Jeff sighed, bringing his forehead to rest on your collarbones, subsequently burying his face in your breasts. You stroked his hair softly, not even bothering to say anything about his head in your tits again, because you knew he really liked being there, even when the two of you weren’t having sex. 

“You can tell whoever you want, darlin’.” Jeff mumbled, his voice coming out a little muffled, so for that reason you gently tilted his face up by your fingertips underneath his jaw, taking a moment to silently mourn the fact that while he had a beard going, it wasn’t his pretty artistic facial hair. He was attractive no matter what (the beard was absolutely _killer),_ but you knew he felt the most like himself with his signature look. “You’re right. I ain’t got no reason to keep us from anyone. And I really _do_ wanna show you off, to my family, to our friends, and to the world.” 

“Yeah?” You said hopefully, your eyes lit up with excitement, making him smile softly and kiss the tip of your nose. “Jeff, I don’t want you to be just saying that to make me happy. You’re sure that you want that?” 

“Yes.” He said firmly, squeezing your hips gently. “Of course I mean it, doll. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry I tried to keep you in the shadows. I shouldn’t have.” 

“And I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a bitch about it.” You apologized as well, putting your hands on top of his and squeezing just as gently as he did to you. “And I really _am_ excited that you’re here, Jeffro. You make me happy.” 

“Mm. You make me happy, too, baby.” Jeff murmured, kissing you soundly. God, he was a good kisser. The kind of kisser that made you forget all about anything and everything that wasn’t your amazing boyfriend. You kissed him back like you had everything to give and nothing to lose, feeling now especially guilty for not kissing him or touching him when you had been with him after his surgery. 

“Mind if I make you a little happier?” You asked against his plush lips, nipping playfully at his flesh while one hand went down to toy with his belt. 

Jeff groaned, sounding more frustrated with his arousal than excited. “Darlin’, I wanna. I damn well _wanna._ But I can’t give ya what ya need right now.”

Your eyes flickered down to his arm, still in a sling. You simply shrugged, looking into his beautiful green eyes, feeling a little extra mischievous right now. You supposed _one_ of you had to be a little shit, and since he was hurt, the responsibility fell to you. “I’m a big girl, Jeffro. I can get myself off just fine. I wanna help _you.”_

“Baby _girl.”_ Jeff hissed as you dragged down the zipper of his pants, your knuckles brushing over the now much more prominent bulge in his jeans as you did so. “I don’t _want_ you to get yourself off. I wanna do it.” 

“You sound like a three your old.” You rolled your eyes, before you got a wonderfully wicked idea. “How attached are you to your pants?” 

Jeff’s eyebrows knit together in confusion at the admittedly very odd question. “Uh, I mean… I won’t cry if they get ruined, I guess?” 

You nodded with a hum, satisfied with his answer, then got settled a little better on top of his thigh, tugging at the knot that kept your robe firmly in place, undoing it and shrugging out of the thing, tossing it to the side and revealing that you had sort of been entirely naked underneath it this whole time. 

_“Jesus.”_ Jeff breathed, stroking your thighs and reaching up to grope your breasts with his one good hand. “I ain’t never gonna get used to seeing you like this, honey. You’re so goddamn beautiful.” 

As much as you loved hearing him praise you, you would rather kiss him instead, showing him your gratitude for him being so reverent of your body, even when you weren’t your own biggest fan. And as nice as the slow, lazy press of lips and tongue was, you were a little too horny to do just kissing, so you pulled back with spit slicked lips, your eyes heavy with arousal and your breaths coming out in tiny pants. 

_“There.”_ You whimpered as you rolled your hips down against his jean-clad thigh, the motion giving you the most _wonderful_ friction on your clit. Jeff’s eyes were blown wide as he stared at you grinding on his thigh, then looking up at you as if his entire life just changed. “See? Now you’re - _mmn_ \- now you’re helping me, Jeffro.” 

_“Shit.”_ Jeff murmured, in absolute awe of you using him like this, only to let out a proper groan as you reached down and tugged his cock out of his boxers and began to stroke him just the way you knew he liked. “Jesus _fuck._ You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me, darlin’.” 

“You have _no clue_ how good this feels.” You breathed, your other hand reaching down and gripping the blankets tightly, your other hand stuttering a little in your normally smooth, fluid motions, almost getting too caught up in your own pleasure. 

“Damn, baby, with how thoroughly _sexed_ you look right now, I’d say I have a pretty fuckin’ good idea.” Jeff grunted, his hips involuntarily bucking up into your touch, his movement making you moan just as well, since his thigh pushed up and added a little more pleasure to the feeling of riding your boyfriend’s leg. 

“G-Good to know.” Your breathing was becoming a little more irregular as you started to lose yourself in the heat of the moment, but you were determined to make your boyfriend cum before you did. 

You watched as Jeff seemed to have a bit of a hard time keeping his eyes open, but he seemed hell bent on watching you, his green eyes flickering from you rubbing yourself on his thigh and your hand jerking him off with a practiced ease. God, he was so fucking hot. You didn’t get with him just because he was attractive, of course, you were far more interested in his mind and soul rather than his body, but _damn,_ you had sure as shit lucked out with his body. 

After a few moments that felt more like hours, you felt Jeff starting to move his hips in tandem with your hand, and _oh,_ did that work out _very nicely_ in your favor. You didn’t even realize that you were moaning his name like it was a church prayer until he started speaking.

“God, fuckin’, _yes,_ baby.” Jeff hissed through his teeth, grabbing your hand that was still gripping the blankets for dear life and moving it to his hair. You got the message rather quickly, and tugged his ponytail just a touch rougher than you usually did, and paired that with stroking him a little more firmly and a little faster than before. 

Your movements were a little sloppy, since you were nearing orgasm and that tended to muddle one’s concentration a bit, but apparently you were doing a good enough job, because his eyes were rolling into the back of his head and the noise he made almost sounded more animalistic than human, which was the _hottest fucking thing_ in the whole world. 

“C’mon, darlin’, keep on going.” Jeff urged, his breathing picking up as you pulled his hair some more. “Keep goin’, baby girl, _fuck yeah, good_ _**God-”**_

You didn’t know how on earth you managed to do it, but you and Jeff managed to cum at the same exact time, both of you moaning each other’s name so lewdly you wouldn’t be surprised if the people in the hotel rooms next to yours thought you two were filming an over-acted porno or some shit, but you didn’t give a damn in the heat of the moment, and you knew Jeff wouldn’t give a damn anyway. You came on his thigh, soaking his jeans and he finished on his shirt and a bit dribbling down onto your hand. You both were breathing heavily as you - quite literally - rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm on his thigh, and you let out a tiny giggle as he leaned forward with a groan and, once again, buried his face in between your breasts. 

You gently removed the hairtie from his hair and began combing your fingers through his beautiful locks, making him nip your clavicle playfully. 

“Careful, darlin’. Keep that shit up and I’ll end up fallin’ asleep in cum stained clothes.” Jeff warned, his voice - how did he put it earlier? - rough and ‘thoroughly _sexed’._

You rolled your eyes and pushed him back with your fingertips on his chest, getting up on wobbly Bambi legs and heading to his bag to pull out a shirt at random, turning and facing him with a raised eyebrow and a little smile when you realized it was your favorite shirt of his to steal after having sex with him, or even just to sleep in. 

“What?” Jeff asked with a cheeky grin, standing up and stripping out of his shirt and pants and tossing them in the trash. Hm. That was a shame. You loved that white v-neck. Oh, well. You’d buy him another. He looked too good in it for him to not own a few. “Alright, so I was hopin’ to get lucky with my beautiful girlfriend on this visit.”

You laughed and put the shirt on and headed to the bathroom to get the cum off of your hands and from between your legs, then came back to slip on a pair of panties. 

“And _damn,_ did I get lucky. That was some hot shit, darlin’.” Jeff praised you, wrapping his one good arm around you from behind and pressing a kiss to the top of your head, now wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. 

“Yeah, well. I got lucky to have you in my life to begin with, so.” You mumbled, feeling a bit silly at your cheesy words, but he let out a long ‘aww’ and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck, giving you another kiss there. 

“So did I, baby. I’m _so lucky.”_ Jeff said, but the sentiment was abruptly cut off by a yawn from the Charismatic Enigma. Nevertheless, he continued to press on his point. “And I was an idiot for not broadcasting to the whole damn world that you’re my darlin’.” 

You shook your head and took his good hand, pressing a kiss to his fingers. “You’re not an idiot, sleepyhead. We were both just a little insecure is all.” 

“Mm. We really oughtta cut that shit out.” Jeff mumbled, letting go of you so that he could tug the blankets down on the bed and lay down. You laid down next to him at his silent invitation to do so after you had shut off the lights, resting your head on his shoulder and reveling in the sound of his heart beating. God, you had missed this cuddling. Jeez, why did you have to be such a bitch when you were last in North Carolina with him? You hadn’t cuddled your boyfriend since before his injury. 

“Hopefully we will.” You agreed, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy chest, your eyes fluttering shut. “Night, Jeffro.” 

“Night, darlin’.” 

When you woke up a few hours before your boyfriend had, you smiled to yourself and hugged your phone to your chest as you saw that you had been tagged in a new photo on Instagram, the smile on your lips so wide and so bright that you had the feeling it’d never leave. It was a photo Jeff had posted apparently just after you had passed the hell out, of your head resting on his chest and his lips pressed to your hairline. 

_**~~~~ <<<< MyGirl . . . . . . >>>>~~~~**_

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to send me a request, or even just a hello, at my tumblr, dirrrtydeeds!


End file.
